


TermiNATION

by Pokerel



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Can be read without being familiar with Hetalia, Gen, I’m not sure what you call this tbh, Nation AU, Nation!Skelebros, POV jumping, Undertale Genocide Route, hetalia AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 23:53:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12593368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pokerel/pseuds/Pokerel
Summary: The first sign there was something wrong was when Papyrus did not eat his breakfast spaghetti. Instead, he picked at it absently, all the while looking at Sans.“is there something on my skull?”Sans decided to break the silence. Papyrus shook his head, before going back to the meal.Sans mentally wrote it off. If something had happened, Papyrus would tell him... right?





	TermiNATION

**Author's Note:**

> I was paid a churro to write this.

The first sign there was something wrong was when Papyrus did not eat his breakfast spaghetti. Instead, he picked at it absently, all the while looking at Sans.

“is there something on my skull?”

Sans decided to break the silence. Papyrus shook his head, before going back to the meal.

Sans mentally wrote it off. If something had happened, Papyrus would tell him... right?

* * *

There had been another Nation before them, back when the Monster Kingdom was still the Dreemurr Kingdom and wasn’t trapped in the hellhole that was the underground, who no one could remember- for Nations faded as they fell, and while their history may persist, their memory would not. Names and faces would be lost over time, fading from records and memories.

He was a skeleton like them, to blend in as much with the human Nations as monsterly possible. However, this was not enough to ease the underlying tension between the races. (In hindsight, the morbid reminder of humans’ own mortality may have been a poor form to take.)

In another life, they may have had been friends. But now, Sans only felt conflicted when thinking of him. The man had taken him and Papyrus in, providing them with shelter and necessities, taking on the role of their guardian. But at the same time, it had felt more like captivity than anything. While under his care, they had effectively been prisoners.

W. D. Gaster. That had been his name.

* * *

Their first meeting was in Waterfall.

Gaster was walking through the peaceful area to clear his mind. The past few weeks had been more than eventful, with the royal couple adopting the fallen human child (against Gaster’s wishes, of course. Even if monsterkind had began to forget the horrors of the war, it was still fresh in his memory.)

That was when he saw them. Two skeleton children sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on a bridge, gazing out at the water.

Joy at finally, _finally_ seeing another of his kind was quickly dulled by the reminder of why exactly he was unique.

He marched up, cloak billowing out and stared them down.

Two pairs of eye sockets stared back, one curious, one defiant.

Sibling Nations were not unheard of, but for them to appear out of nowhere? Gaster readied his magic, as his mind whirred. On the surface Nations appeared and disappeared quickly, possibly even in a matter of decades. Many were short-lived, but the victors came out stronger, tougher, mightier. But the very fact that monsterkind had three even with such a small population was worrying at least, because they could have appeared for any number of reasons, none of which boded well for the kingdom’s future. Additionally, Nations and conflict went hand in hand, so even if they seemed harmless now, they could cause problems further down the road.

He considered his options. Killing them himself was out of the question, not just because there was no guarantee they’d stay dead. And no matter how much he mistrusted their existence, he could not bring himself to harm a monster child.

Nations had a tendency to gravitate towards their elder peers, in search of guidance and protection. He did not have to like them, but he did feel a sense of duty towards his kind. After all, who knew if they would succeed him one day?

He held out his hands, and as expected, the two were quick to latch onto him. He tugged slightly, setting off at a brisk pace towards Hotland.

At one of the crossroads, a shock of white fur caught his eye.

“Your majesty!”

Toriel turned around at the familiar voice.

“Gaster?” She perked up as her old (oldest) friend walked towards her.

“I didn’t expect to find you here of all places. What brings you to Waterfall?”

“I was just picking up some snails from the farm. Who are these two?” Toriel quickly spotted the two smaller skeletons who were trying to shy away. Then she caught Gaster’s gaze, and smirked.

He only mouthed _Nations_ in response.

* * *

“You will keep an eye on them.”

Gaster could not defy his boss, but he could interpret her instructions differently.

Or so he told himself, as he dragged both of the younger skeletons into the holding cell attached to his private lab.

“There are multiple security cameras in this room. Do not try anything funny.”

Gaster jolted as one of the children (likely the rounder one) sent magic down his arm. He should have seen this coming.

In response, he tightened his grip and activated his own magic, weaving it into an old, rarely-used charm- a magic nullifier of sorts. The spell clamped down on the children’s wrists, eliciting twin hisses of pain.

“That is no way to behave in polite company.”

That’d teach them. Even though there was no immediate danger of war, they would have to learn fast, and even though humans Nations would employ distasteful practices, they were as effective as they were barbaric.

* * *

Determination. The substance that gave humans their power. One that Gaster had in limited supply. With Chara joining the royal family, he was ordered to dig up his notes on humans, along with the research he conducted on the surface. (For science, of course.)

Gaster scanned the page again. Chara seemed to get injured at an alarming rate, with each physical examination bringing more fresh cuts and bruises. Gaster was hardly the type to make assumptions, but he had a hunch. Yet, he held his tongue. The royal couple were wise but he doubted they could understand why their child, who was all shy but bright smiles, would do such a thing.

He pinched his nasal bone, trying to ignore the steady clack-clack-clack that was slowly increasing in volume.

Gaster put down the notes and checked his blueprints again. If his hypothesis proved correct, and determination was indeed able to warp reality, then by harnessing this ability he could make it such that the war never happened, such that monsters were never forced underground, such that history had turned out differently. The machine was currently rather bare-bones and lacked much of its inner mechanism, as he refused to divert the kingdom’s resources towards a project that may not even work. Most or the parts he could find would be scavenged from the dump or bought off other monsters, and fewer still were in a good enough condition to use.

“Quiet.” Both young Nations could hear him. The rattling stopped. A moment later, they rounded the corner.

Gaster took in both of them. They were wearing some old clothes that Gaster found in his house, and apparently had also found his lab coats, the little scamps. He felt a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth despite himself.

He found himself growing more and more attached to the younger skeletons. That came with time, he supposed. Toriel hadn’t asked about them ever since that first meeting, even though he saw her extremely frequently. Perhaps she was afraid of finding out? Nations were not exactly the most merciful bunch, and although the two were close, mortals would always be wary of gods. That was the way the world worked.

She need not worry, Gaster mused. He had pretty much adopted the two, keeping them hidden within the lab where they would be safe. Papyrus was a ray of sunshine, even if slightly overwhelming at times. The Nation really loved tinkering, although for all that energy he was incredibly careful. On the other hand, Sans was a lot quieter, though he displayed as much interest on Gaster’s work. The sluggish behavior definitely couldn’t be natural, and Gaster wondered whether he’d fall down.

He made to shoo the two siblings, but they’d already seen the machine. They weaved under his arms (he’d unconsciously raised them out of the way) and started staring at it.

Sans poked at the machine, before looking up at Gaster.

“It’s a time machine.” No point beating around that bush.

Sans crossed his arms, and then poked the machine again.

“No, I haven’t tested it yet.”

“THEN WHEN?”

Gaster had lectured Papyrus once due to his total inability to maintain an indoor voice. It seems his lesson was sticking. Good.

But about his plans...

“Chara’s been settling in nicely.” Gaster wrung his hands, and stared down at the floor. “And using the time machine has its risks... If our situation is acceptable then why change it?”

“NEVER?”

Gaster sighed.

“Not if I can help it.”

* * *

Papyrus perked up as he heard footsteps from outside the door. A moment later, there was the swishing sound of it sliding open, and Gaster walked in. However instead of heading towards his workstation, he walked up to the siblings seated on the floor.

“I don’t know if you‘ve realised, but... An accident has happened. Both the royal children are dead.”

He received two blank stares in response. He sighed, and slid into a sitting position on the floor, forming a triangle.

“Chara was poisoned, we’re not sure who did it. Asriel took their soul-“ Gaster paused, trying to find the words. “He crossed the barrier, and was cut down by those on the surface. The kingdom is mourning their passing, and Asgore has declared war on all humans.”

Sans shuffled closer to Papyrus. They shared a sympathetic glance. All three of them knew what was going to happen, but saying it out loud did not make it any easier.

“Toriel left.”

* * *

Sans knew that Gaster had fallen. He knew, for he had grown overnight. They both had. The magical locks blocking their escape were gone now, and the lab was empty. Far too empty for his liking.

Sans grabbed Papyrus and ran without looking back.

It was only many years later that he ventured to the palace, where King Asgore greeted him with open arms and a cup of tea. He left with a smile on his face and a new job, as the king’s Judge.

Neither Papyrus nor Gaster were mentioned in the conversation.

* * *

Sans walked through the snow. Papyrus was the one who suggested they move in the first place. The temperature and weather of Snowdin were very different from Hotland, and Sans found it calming. His brother was so cool (pun entirely intended).

Here, he could not feel the undercurrent of powerful energy that usually accompanied his footsteps, which was strange but not unexpected. This only served to confirm his suspicion as to why Papyrus wanted to live in Snowdin, of all places. But if it made Papyrus happy, Sans would do anything for his dear brother.

Gaster hadn’t really explained it in too much detail, but Sans had a very rough idea of what being a Nation entailed. On the surface, humans formed large groups called ‘countries’ which acted somewhat independently of each other, ruled by a monarch. Papyrus had once compared surface politics to a large, crowded, flooded bumper car rink lacking safety measures, and after reading the research material Sans couldn’t help but agree.

Each ‘country’ would consider themselves a nation. A nation, not a Nation. A Nation was just a living personification of a nation’s identity, whose life was directly linked with their people. All that sounded complicated, but if the many Nations on the surface could pull this off, so could they. At least, that’s what Papyrus told him, and Sans was inclined to believe it.

The thing about being a Nation was, their own territory could lend them additional power, and in turn, they were expected to defend it to the death. This effect tended to be strongest within a Nation’s capital, which the humans described as a ‘heart of a nation’. So something like a soul, then.

The siblings weren’t sure _who_ was _what_ , mostly because of a low population density and a lack of physical or political borders. Sans could only make an educated guess based off what he knew, and he knew that while his side extended into Waterfall, Happstablook (or Mettaton) was definitely one of Papyrus’s. Stars, he’d been so excited the day before the star’s debut. Sans knew for a fact that Papyrus was proud of every single one of his citizens, but there would always be these special people that would go down in history.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he sensed a soul exiting the Ruins, and ducked into the trees. That wasn’t a monster.

It shuffled up the path, dragging its feet.

“Observe.” Gaster would say. “Analyse.”

A dust-coated knife and a grey-stained sweater. Sans felt his soul sink. With that amount of dust, it was highly unlikely any monster had managed to escape this killer, whatever it was.

He pulled out his trusty whoopee cushion.

* * *

This was happening. Sans clawed in frustration at the counter of his sentry station, the one closest to the entrance of Waterfall. He had tried and failed to talk Papyrus out of confronting the human.

“I BELIEVE I CAN HELP THEM SEE THE ERROR OF THEIR WAYS. MAYBE THEY JUST NEEDED A FRIEND?”

“paps, they literally went around hunting down monsters. _your_ people.”

“TRUST ME, SANS. PLEASE.”

He knew Papyrus could handle himself in a fight, but braced himself. It would not be easy, because while Papyrus had the best control of his magic in probably the whole underground, he was also way too forgiving for his own good. It must be his monster population- Snowdin was a friendly place due to the close-knit community.

Sans rested his head on his arms, and gave the monster to his right a small wave. The monster smiled back, but it was hesitant.

* * *

He felt rather than saw his brother’s death, hand flying up to his neck in blind panic. Was Papyrus-?

He removed his hand, expecting to see dust, so great was the pain.

BUt NoBOdY CaME.

The tidal wave of emotion caught him off guard, all the fear and anger of the monsters who had survived, the collective pain and hate bubbling and churning in his gut. And as quickly as it had come, it receded, leaving him a gasping, trembling mess.

And the Monster Kingdom shakily stood, united but alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Peace offering? Peace offering.
> 
> Imagine Arthur making the climb up Mount Ebott, in part to prove that Magic Is A Thing, but also because he really missed his old friend Gaster. Except, upon exiting the Ruins he comes face to face with two skeleton children.
> 
> This meeting results in accidental adoption, and since Arthur isn’t exactly human, they see nothing wrong in him hanging around. In interacting with the two, he sees a lot of Gaster in the way the shorter brother jokes, in the way he acts, in the way he thinks, and the taller brother brings back memories of a certain blond-haired blue-eyed colony. And Arthur has failed both of these friends before. This time, he is determined to make it right.
> 
> When the monsters get busted out of the mountain, Arthur is the first Nation to speak up in their defence. He has a reputation, especially among his peers, and when he gets serious they get _terrified_. With this encouragement the collective U.N. finally manages to pick a course of action. The monsters are here to stay.
> 
> Every so often Sans and Papyrus will drop by his house, as they know they are always welcome.
> 
> And just- MOM ENGLAND.


End file.
